The Lost Key (A Brit in the FBI 2)

“I believe you’re right, Alex, but we won’t know anything until the inquest. Scotland Yard is conducting an investigation, as well as the Security Service. We’re coming at this from all angles. Now you understand why I need you to come to London right away. Forget the SD card. There’s no way you can get it. Right away, Alex, tonight.”

Pearce dead, Stanford dead. And—“Sir, Wolfgang Havelock died not above a month ago as well. I know he had a stroke, but with three members of the Order dead in such a short period of time—”

“Exactly, Alex, exactly. You’re absolutely correct, it seems the Order is under attack. The information stolen from Stanford’s safe can cripple us all. We are convening an emergency meeting of the Order, and I want you here.”

“Yes, sir, of course. My cover will be blown, but it hardly seems to matter now.”

“Good. I’ll share some news with you, Alex, because I know I can trust you, and you’re going to know it soon enough, anyway. I know that Pearce was in direct contact with Alfie Stanford last night. As for the message you passed to me last night from Jonathan, it was indeed good news—the very best news, actually—Adam located the submarine at last. We don’t have the exact coordinates as yet, but we will soon. Once we get to the sub, we’ll retrieve Marie’s key and her book and be able to find the weapon, and the kaiser’s gold, if that isn’t a myth.”

“Do you think it’s possible English spies really did manage to steal the kaiser’s private treasure?”

“Probably no, but we’ll see. I don’t intend to let anyone get in the way. Now, I’m not sure who to trust right now, Alex, so you must be careful.”

“The pub—”

“That is why you have a partner. Call him, tel

l him your mother is ill and you must return to—where does your current legend say you’re from?”

“Chicago. Lincoln Park, a few blocks from the zoo.” He said the words automatically, the information so ingrained in his being he could recite it in his sleep, with a knife pointed at his throat.

“Right. Tell him you must return to Chicago immediately. We’ll take care of the rest and send a plane for you. It will be waiting for you at Teterboro. And Alex? About Drummond having the other SD card. I believe you’re right. Drummond used to be with the Foreign Office, and he was Met Police for a stretch, before moving to America to join the FBI. We detected a breach on Pearce’s computer this morning. I think this Drummond character may have made a mirror of the files. If he has, certainly it’s very likely he found the SD card during a search of Jonathan’s apartment.

“If that is the case, we must simply forget about getting it back. Drummond has already turned the SD card in. I’m sorry the American FBI have it, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. So what I want you to do is bring Sophie Pearce with you. She’s in danger, and until we understand what’s going on here, who else is also after the sub and the key, she must be protected.”

Alex looked out the window, watched the pigeons alight on the sill, cooing and preening. Oh, bugger it all, how was he going to get Sophie to come willingly with him? She wouldn’t, no way, it wouldn’t matter what he said. “What about Adam?”

“Do not worry about him. I have others looking for him.”

“Very well, sir. May I ask who is taking over the Order now that Mr. Stanford is dead?”

There was a slight pause, then a hitch in Edward Weston’s throat, which he quickly cleared away.

“I am.”

20

26 Federal Plaza

1:00 p.m.

Zachery was waiting for them when Nicholas and Mike returned. He’d been alerted they were on their way up, and stood right outside the elevator doors, his hands on his hips. He did not look happy.

“Two dead bodies before lunch, Drummond? You’re having one hell of a first day.”

Then, of course, Zachery saw clearly that the two bodies were the last thing on Nicholas’s mind, but he snapped to quickly. “Ah, yes, sir, I know.”

Nicholas was accustomed to being on the radar of his superiors for all the wrong reasons, but two dead bodies, that was surely pushing it. No one could have anticipated how his first day would turn into a bloodbath, without his assistance, not really. He stood straight and tall and waited for the hammer to fall, Mike beside him.

Before Zachery could say anything else, Mike asked, “Sir, any word on identification of Mr. Olympic? That’s what Nicholas named our man because he could run as fast as Bolt.”

Which meant Nicholas had run faster, Zachery thought, looking at her. “Not yet. Fingerprint, DNA, and facial-recognition software are running as we speak on—Mr. Olympic—but so far, nothing. The autopsy has been scheduled for two-thirty this afternoon. You need to know what killed this man.”

I love autopsies, my very favorite way to spend an afternoon. But the fact was, though, they did need to know if Mr. Olympic had indeed chomped down on some sort of poison pill in his mouth.

“Yes, sir, not a problem.”

Mike said, “Sir, what about Pearce’s hard drive and the SD card we had messengered back? Any word there?”